The Nightmare
Is not just a bad dream.
It is a suffocating dread.
Wake up,
In the middle of the night,
A groggy mind stripped of its,
Common sense,
Intellect,
Rationale,
Left only with the anxious,
Paranoid,
Reptilian,
Animal brain,
A caveman who suspects a saber-toothed tiger may be lurking nearby.
Your bedroom becomes a beast’s lair,
You feel a monster that isn’t there,
But its presence is as real,
And terrifying,
As anything,
You’ve ever faced.
Heart racing,
Hands shaking,
Leap out of bed,
Screaming,
Shouting,
Cursing,
Running,
Cut your toe on a desk,
As you try to escape,
The claws of the tiger,
Whizzing past your face.
Loved ones frightened,
As you run and scream,
In a half-awake trance,
From a monster only you can see.
Awoken in the night,
By a screaming madman.
If you’re lucky,
As I’ve been lucky,
They’ll be kind,
And patient,
And hold you,
Until the screaming stops,
Until you can’t see the monster anymore.
I’m always scared.
When I’m awake,
I bottle it up.
When I’m asleep,
It takes over.
It doesn’t scare the loved ones anymore,
I know,
They’ll always hold me until I stop shaking.
I wonder if I’ll ever stop shaking?
